M
y husband Stephen is an
artist, and I am a writ-
er. For the last 25 years
we’ve worked side-by-side, making
our creations. The life of a creative
person
can
be
challenging,
unpredictable, and pock-marked
with self-doubt. We’ve learned to lean
on one another for assistance in areas
outside our expertise (him: words,
me: technology), honest feedback
(“Does this suck?”), and general moral
support (“I love you, but if you aban-
don this project now, I will kill you.”)
But it wasn’t until the beginning of
this year that we had the bright idea
to put our skills together and actually
collaborate on a creation. “How could
we not have done this sooner?” we
wondered.
It all came together rather effortlessly
on a recent project when Steve asked
me if I would write some words on
one of his works of art. Hand-
write?! Directly on his artwork - the
product of dozens of hours of his
efforts? What if I made some horrible
mistake, instantly ruining the whole
thing?
We entitled our new endeavor
EveNSteve, because, well, when
you and your spouse rhyme you
might as well take advantage of it.
We had only made a small handful
of the new collaborative works when
we were asked to make one featuring
the Rokeby Museum in Ferrisburg. If
you are anything like me, this is just
the kind of place you’ve driven past a
hundred times in Vermont and thought
idly, ”Huh. Wonder what that is?”
Like so many places in this state, all
you need is a halfway good reason to
pull in and take a look around.
As we quickly found out in our
research, Rokeby is a National
Historic Landmark. This farm
homestead was a site on the
Underground Railroad. The Robin-
son family who lived here for four
successive generations were devout,
radical Quakers; and for them
this also meant that they were
impassioned abolitionists. Rowland
T. Robinson, who was born at
Rokeby in 1796, was one of the
organizers of the Hundred
Conventions,
an
abolitionist
gathering that travelled throughout
New England in 1843, spreading
the message of anti-slavery. The
former slave and abolitionist
Frederick Douglass was one of
the featured speakers, and when
the tour came to Ferrisburg, he
delivered a fiery anti-slavery speech
that still rings with conviction for
readers today.
In addition to being Quakers and
abolitionists, the Robinsons were
farmers, artists and authors. If
anyone ever tells you creativity
doesn’t run in families, you should
point them to the example of the
Robinsons.
Rowland
Evans
Robinson, born in 1833, wrote
more than a dozen books.
Many of his Vermont folk tales
embellished upon his memories
of growing up in a house where
runaway slaves were sheltered.
His daughter, Rachel, grew up to
become an important illustrator in
New York City. His other daugh-
ter, Molly— in her teenage years—
processed her own glass plate
negatives to make photographs at
a time when photography was a
complicated and technical en-
deavor. She grew up to become a
botanical illustrator.
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